Riding out the Mars blues.
The rocks are red the fields are cold as hell. I miss my home I miss the sights and smells. Our atmosphere chamber can’t replace the feel.
My kids play in alien dust. Will my forced smiles and laughter be enough. When I signed up for the expedition and agreed to the terms of being here how could I foresee having twins on Mars.
The last celebration go-away sex my boyfriend and I had was strictly forbidden but it was a moment of passion and possible goodbye forever to Earth.
Screw NASA and their rules. I’m human. It’s my body, my instincts, my decision.
Instructing me to use the robot surgeon provided to perform an abortion was one the most insulting, denigrating experiences. I’ll bet our beloved government didn’t share their dictate with the public. Bad publicity.
Lucky for me our engineer of quantum physics and space folding was here to help deliver my babies. So sad he died last week of accidental Mars dust inhalation. Accelerated metastatic melanoma appeared out of nowhere…
